The two millionaires spend the day filling a skip. The apartment block is almost complete so, while €3,750,000 waits for them in the Lotto headquarters, Jerzy and Filip carry half-emptycement bags and pieces of unwanted timber from the apartments. They sweep the pinewood floors with wide brushes.
The two millionaires spend the day filling a skip. The apartment block is almost complete so, while €3,750,000 waits for them in the Lotto headquarters, Jerzy and Filip carry half-empty cement bags and pieces of unwanted timber from the apartments. They sweep the pinewood floors with wide brushes.
At lunchtime, they sit on flattened cardboard and drink tea from mugs that belonged to two Latvian men who returned to Latvia on a Ryanair flight the night before.
–You like this apartment? Filip asks.
Jerzy shrugs.
–Yes.
–Will we buy it?
–We can do better.
–You are right, says Filip.
They speak no more about the money, these men who hardly know each other. By the end of the working day, they are tired and the dust has bitten into their eyes. The foreman waves as they walk off the site, onto the street.
–See you tomorrow, lads.
–Yes, says Filip. –Tomorrow.
–Yes, says Jerzy, although he is not sure what has been agreed.
They stand on the street.
–I want to check the numbers, says Filip.
–The Lotto numbers?
–Yes, says Filip.
–You are worried that they are not right? Jerzy asks.
–No, says Filip. –But I want to be certain. Before we go for the money.
They walk into a nearby Spar and find the numbers in the Evening Herald.
–They are correct? Jerzy asks.
Filip has taken a piece of paper, the Lotto playslip, from his back pocket. He examines the numbers.
–Yes, he says. –They are right.
He puts the slip back into his pocket.
They walk back outside. Jerzy wants to know when they will collect the money. But he doesn’t think he should ask. The slip is in Filip’s pocket, not his.
–So.
–Hungry?
–Yes.
They laugh. They are millionaires but they have no money. The Lotto office will be closed by now; it is after six o’clock. So they walk to a room on Pearse Street where they must listen to a man with a beard as he reads from a bible, in English.
–You understand? Jerzy asks, quietly.
–A little, says Filip. –The parable of the loaves and fishes, you know.
–Ah, says Jerzy. –Feeding the multitude. I tried it when I was a child.
–Feeding the multitude?
–Yes, says Jerzy. –I tried to make two fish out of the one I took from the kitchen table. But it fell apart and fed a multitude of cats. My mother almost killed me.
–But the cats were grateful, I’m sure.
–They never said so.
When the man has closed the bible, they stand and queue for soup and bread.
–Good soup.
–Free soup, says Filip. –But tomorrow we must pay.
–Yes, says Jerzy. –Being rich is tough.
They laugh quietly and finish their soup. Then they go back out to the street. It is raining.
–It rains on the rich and the poor.
They stand there for a while.
–So.
–So.
–Tomorrow?
–Yes, says Filip. –Tomorrow.
–Good bye, says Jerzy.
–Good bye.
He walks down Tara Street, to the river. Filip is not with him. Jerzy thinks about going back, and following him. After all, he has the playslip, the proof – the promise. All Jerzy has are sore, wet feet.
But he doesn’t go back. He keeps walking, and reaches the bandstand. He sits, and nods at the other men. He has seen them all before. He takes out his last can of beer. He opens it, drinks, and passes it to the man beside him. This is the last time he will sit here.
But is it?
He wonders this when he wakes the following morning. Should he bring the tent, or leave it?
He leaves it. He hides it in his usual place, with the sleeping bag – just in case. He walks along the river to the bus station. He washes, shaves and waits for Filip.
No sign of him.
He walks out to the street. No sign. He goes back in. He waits some more minutes. He will be late for work if he stays any longer.
He leaves.
He has no money but he has a job. He is still ahead – but devastated. It is not the money; it is not just about the money. It is the friendship, and the sudden loss of it.
This is the worst time, since he arrived here. The walk from the station to the site. He feels like an old, defeated man by the time he gets to the apartments – and finds Filip there before him.
–I must know, says Jerzy. –Where did you sleep last night?
Filip points to a corner of the room, and the cardboard.
–There.
They look at each other.
–I think we should collect the money today, says Jerzy.
–Yes, says Filip. –I want to buy a pillow.
© Roddy Doyle 2008
Roddy’s story continues next month in Metro Éireann
